


with shortness of breath (you explained the infinite)

by Hugabug



Series: that we may fall in love (every time we open our eyes) [1]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Character Death, Dreams, Established Relationship, Goodbyes, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, M/M, Old Age, Other, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 16:29:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14265051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hugabug/pseuds/Hugabug
Summary: "Shane?""Y-Yeah?""Why won't you look at me?"





	with shortness of breath (you explained the infinite)

**Author's Note:**

> title from the song ["Saturn" by Sleeping At Last](https://genius.com/Sleeping-at-last-saturn-lyrics)
> 
> I know-- I'm beating a dead horse. But I really wanted to make this into a trilogy so I could put it up as a series. So here you go, the final (but chronologically, the first) installment of the au literally no one asked for.

 

They’re on a beach, just a couple of miles from home. It’s a windy day with a clear sky turning purple and pink under the golden rays of the sun. A hand is in his and there are words coming out of his mouth, something about why the sky is blue and purple and pink and orange and red— it’s a stupid, nerdy lecture made up of entirely nonsense “science” that could probably rival the Hot Daga. Nevertheless, he talks, and across the water, seagulls reply, and right next to him, Ryan laughs at something he’s said.  
  
Shane pauses. Tightens his grip around the hand in his. Ryan laughs some more.  
  
His knees feel weak.  
  
“I thought we settled this.” Ryan says, his voice raspy with a wheeze that makes him cough a second later. It’s a horrible hacking sound, wet and deep within ruined lungs. Shane winces. “If aliens  _did_  come to earth and we ate them, they wouldn’t be vegan. They aren’t plant matter, Shane.”  
  
Shane opens his mouth to reply. He’s done this before, he knows. A couple of months ago. He remembers his reply clearly:  _Regrown meat from petri dishes aren’t plant matter, either, Ry._  
  
He can’t find it in him to say it now.

Instead, he works his mouth, forms shapes around soundless syllables as the waves come crashing again and again, against the golden sand. Sea foam rushes to lap at their feet, sand shifts under violent waters. The ground beneath them feels unstable— Shane dreads the erosion.  
  
“This,” he begins with a whisper, lost to the strong wind. He licks his dry lips and scans the horizon. Nothing, for miles, just open sea. Somehow, this makes him feel worse. “This is like that beach we had our wedding on.”  
  
He says the words so quiet, he wonders if Ryan has heard them. It takes a moment, like the world is taking a deep breath, then suddenly, the wind drops. Leaves everything still. Eerie silence follows, save for the constant crashing waves, and as the quiet closes in, Shane feels it on his skin. His breath quickens.  
  
In his hand, Ryan’s fingers intertwine with his.  
  
“It  _is_  the beach we had our wedding on.” Ryan says, softly. Like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t do. Everything doesn’t seem right now— they never went to the beach in the past few months, did they? They had talked about it, behind sterile white walls and to the tune of maintenance machinery, in the overwhelming silence of Ryan's—  _oh._  
  
Shane’s chest seizes.  
  
And Ryan continues. “Do you like it?”  
  
The wind picks up again, and Shane lets go of Ryan’s hand.  
  
“Shane?“  
  
“Y-Yeah?”  
  
“Why won’t you look at me?”  
  
The question is said with a laugh, apprehensive, but not quite bitter. Nervous. Shane chuckles a bit when he hears it, and brings a hand up to his mouth because his own laugh hadn’t sounded like a laugh at all. He presses his fingers to his lips, as if he can keep it all in, and turns to try and smile at his husband.  
  
Ryan—  _Ryan_ , standing upright and tall like he used to, smiles back at him, sadly. “There we go.”  
  
He looks so good in the light, Shane thinks, watching as golden afternoon sun weaves its glow through the strands of Ryan’s grey and white hair. They fall into his eyes, too, reflecting faded chocolate brown into warm honey. Shane traces their path, raking his gaze across a well loved face and Ryan stares back at him like he’s doing the exact same thing.  
  
“The last time I saw you, you didn’t look like this.” Shane says, blinking back a rush of heat behind his eyes. “The last time I saw you—”  
  
“I know,” Ryan laughs, shaking his head. He takes a step forward, Shane takes a step back. Stops when Ryan stops. He watches as his husband studies his face, bewilderment in his expression, before it melts into a look of understanding and hurt. Seeing it there is like a sucker punch to the gut, and Shane shifts forward, just a bit.  
  
“I’m sorry, I just–” he croaks, already feeling his throat close up. “You were– I– This all feels like—”  
  
_Like a goodbye_.  
  
Shane swallows, hard. “Oh, god—”  
  
“I love you.” Ryan says, just the way he has so many times. His lips move around the words like a familiar friend, his tongue makes them into a caress that soothes a part of Shane that aches to hear them. He hasn’t heard them in a week. He hasn’t seen Ryan smile for two. He smiles now, sweet and kind and open, all teeth and twinkling eyes for Shane.   
  
He takes another step, this time Shane stays put. He takes another. Then another. When he reaches him, Ryan wraps his arms around his middle. Squeezes tight.  
  
Shane, desperate, wraps his arms around Ryan’s shoulders and buries his nose in his hair.  
  
“I love you, Ryan.” he says with much difficulty. He’s started crying now, silently shaking in the embrace of the man who owns his heart. “I love you so much.”  
  
“Fifty six years, can you believe it?” Ryan sighs, molding his body into Shane’s. “Fifty six whole years.”  
  
Shane laughs, watery. “And we didn’t file for a divorce once.”  
  
“I used to threaten it a lot, though.” Ryan shrugs. “I love you, big guy.”  
  
“I—” The hold tighten around his waist as his own tighten around Ryan. Something hot is trailing down his wrinkled cheeks, and around them the golden sunlight is beginning to disappear, their shadows growing longer in its wake. In his arms, Ryan slumps against him. “Ryan—”  
  
“I love… you.” comes the whisper, slurred together. “Shane, don’t… don’t you fucking… forget—”  
  
Shane feels a sob tear from his throat. “ _Ryan–_ ”   
  
_Please. Not yet._  
  
Against his chest, he feels Ryan smile. “Happy Anniversary, baby.”  
  
The sun sets, and somewhere next to him, a phone rings.  
  
Shane gasps, opening his eyes to the dim of his room. His cheeks are wet, his nose is stuffy, and he blinks the rest of the tears away as he brings himself to a sitting position. The last 24 hours come rushing back to him like violent waves to a golden shore— Ryan’s thin chest, rising weakly and falling slowly to the beat of machinery. The smell of sterile hospital sheets, a kindly nurse gently urging him home. Him, standing on weak knees and bending, painfully, at the hip to press a parting kiss to Ryan’s snowy white hair. Their daughter, Kristen, worriedly sending her wife and him to the car, their daughter in law, Selma, silently driving under the eerie fluorescent street lamp lights. They had reached home without a hitch, and Shane had collapsed on his bed without taking off the clothes he had been wearing since yesterday night. Selma must’ve tucked him in before she left, because now, sheets pool around his waist and bunch up in his gnarled hands, messed up on his side of the bed but ironed down on the other, empty side. He runs a palm down them, feels the cool linen slide against his skin, and he is struck with how empty it all feels.  
  
On his bedside, his phone continues to ring.  
  
He picks it up. “Hello?”  
  
A sob answers him and immediately, something heavy in his stomach sinks.  
  
“Kristen.” he rasps, feeling an invisible hand close around his wind pipe. “He’s gone, isn’t he?”  
  
Another sob. Then, a laugh. Bitter, resigned. Shane aches in the wake of it.  
  
After a sniffle, his daughter says, “Yeah, Pop.” The words grate in his ears. “H-How did—”  
  
The sheets underneath his hands are cold. His eyes are dry. “I just do.”  
  
“O-Ok,” Kristen stutters, shaky. She sniffles some more then lets out a shuddery sigh. “Pop, I’m coming over, ok?”  
  
Shane squeezes his eyes shut. “Ok.”  
  
“Don't— Don’t move, Pop, I’m coming. I promise.”  
  
“Ok.”  
  
Kristen hesitates, silent for a moment. Shane waits for her to speak, strains to hear anything of her— nothing. It’s almost like she’s holding her breath, struggling to keep it all together when all she wants to do is crumble and cry. She’s strong, their little girl, Ryan made sure they raised her that way. Now, though, in the face of loss, she’s brittle, clueless and grief ridden. Shane wants to hold her. Wants her to hold him.  
  
“I’ll wait for you, little girl.” he tells her, softly. His bottom lip had begun to tremble, and he bites down on it to keep it steady. “I’m not going anywhere.”  
  
A pause. “That’s what Daddy used to say.” she croaks, broken. “I’ll see you in ten.”  
  
And the line clicks dead.  
  
Shane lays back down.  
  
_“I love you. Don’t you fucking forget.”_  
  
So it  _was_  goodbye.  
  
He inhales, deep and long, like air would somehow lighten the sudden weight pressing down on his sternum or the stinging he feels in his gut. For years, he’d imagined what this might feel like. Now, he wonders if this is another nightmare. That maybe, Ryan had infected him and he has a bad case of sleep paralysis and this is all some stupid dream. Maybe, if he opens his eyes, Ryan’ll be there again, dozing against his side, drooling all over Shane’s arm. Shane squeezes his eyes shut harder.  _Wake up_.  _Wake up. Wake up_.  _Wake up–_  
  
His phone falls from his grasp. Hits the floor. Beeps. Goes totally silent.  
  
Shane opens his eyes, and the dark in the room mocks him.  
  
He’s awake. And Ryan’s gone.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr ver.](http://en-sam-malas.tumblr.com/post/172757232005/ok-ok-ok-uhhh-can-i-get-some-fuckin-uhhhhh-ryan)


End file.
